The movement pulls Rose from the kiss and warms a buttery giggle from her belly. The sound shivers off the tile of the wall, circling the two of them.

"Eager baby!" The hand weaving itself against Pearl's heat moves to still her movements at the hip, while the arm still bracing Pearl upright strokes along her back. As best as it can, anyway. "I suppose you're restless?"

She pecks: punctuates the touch with a wink. Like they're sharing a secret. "But be still. Still as you can." Her thumb smudges slow down the half-moon of hip before pressing, again: combing a tender course to the softest place on Pearl. "Just let me feel you."

They'll need to move soon. Rose knows that. Already this position is grating on her back and hips. And Pearl's shins are still knocked awkward against the tile -- collecting a small fruitbasket of bruises, likely.

But she can't grudge them a moment of kissing. Soft, rolling touch. Drinking Pearl in through the butterfly-skin of her mouth: whorl of watercolor tongue: tease of jewelry-box teeth: stovetop hum like lovely, cooking things.

"What a gorgeous girl." Fingtertips slip along the plush heat as Rose croons, like a first draft of hypnosis, "You'd like more, wouldn't you?"